


Second Skin

by PurplishProse (BalthazarB)



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, more characters to be added as stuff happens i guess?, werewolves and junk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-11-29 13:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11441394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalthazarB/pseuds/PurplishProse
Summary: The Earp family name means something altogether different now, something deeper. Wynonna and Waverly struggle to fix what their ancestors have done, but something has changed, and something is coming. Werewolves are no longer their only problem.Nicole has lived far too long a life to not recognise when something bad is happening but is far too brave to run away. Getting involved with a family of Werewolf hunters may not be her best idea, but she's an idiot, and Waverly is far too amazing for her to just ignore.AKA sisterly bonding, suspicious murders, lovestruck pining, and Nicole gets herself into a terrible situation because of a pretty girl, because how else does it go?





	1. You Should Run

Nicole was, by nature, a wanderer. She wandered from town to town, province to province, never lingering too long or overstaying her welcome, but instead giving herself time to get to know the town and it's story before moving on. She wrote, sometimes. Drafting volumes about the places she had visited, recording their histories for whatever future generations came upon the ruins of this society next. 

 

She had left the last town with a wave and a tip of her hat, grinning at the blacksmith with whom she had struck a rapport, as the blacksmith gave her a good-natured middle finger back. And then she was gone.  Many people preferred horses or cars when it came to travelling through the forests between towns, but Nicole, who enjoyed making things difficult for herself, liked to walk. 

 

The path to purgatory was winding and filled with potholes and animal tracks. The gaps between trees were filled with the absence of light, which swallowed all pretence of friendliness and welcoming, making Nicole want to do an 180 and sprint back to her previous stop.  Which was ridiculous. _She_ should have been the scariest thing in these woods. She squared her shoulders and marched on, all thoughts of giving up dismissed.

 

That was, before something laughed. 

 

It was thick and low and phlegmatic, echoing through the trees and making the hairs on the back of her head stand up as if to escape. Nicole, started, very gracefully stumbled, and fell over a rock. The gravel road bit into her hands.

 

Scrambling back up into an upright position, she grimaced as the laughter started up again, before yelling "How about you shut the fuck up?"  into the trees. She felt wild. Crazy. A stick snapped behind her, and the scent of blood and must swirled through the air. She shouldn’t be afraid. She'd walked woods liked this before, faced things so horrible anyone else would have broken, so why was this so bad? When she was the predator and everything else was the prey, why was every fibre of her being telling her to run?

 

Breathing heavily, she marched over to the nearest tree and angrily proceeded to carve something in it, the scratching of the knife against bark louder than the rustling of the leaves. The script was curved, the intention to banish, and then she once again began heading to the town, hat pulled down low over her eyes. 

 

***

 

"Anything supernatural to report, deputy?" Wynonna called, swaggering into the lounge with a beverage that reeked of lighter fluid clutched in her hand. 

 

Waverly sighed. 

 

"old Creighton thinks there's an angry forest deity haunting his land. He found 'fuck off'  carved into one of his trees near the woods."

 

"And he thinks it was a spirit and not, iunno, an angsty teen?"

 

"it was in cursive, apparently."

 

"huh. You don't say."

 

There was silence for a second before Wynonna flopped onto one of the sofas, melting between the cushions like a cat.

 

"I need to head into town to buy some milk, anyway.  Can I trust you to make sure the house doesn't burn down in my absence? " Waverly said, closing her notebook with a quick flick of her wrist.

 

Wynonna winked and made a semi-affirmative noise, so Waverly tossed on a heavy coat and headed out the door. 

 

She hated autumn. It got darker earlier and earlier, eating away at productive research hours and making the woods outside the homestead seem more menacing, not to mention the temperature drops. Waverly was, after all, a summer girl. 

 

The car took a while to start, making several almost organic sounds, before puttering forwards slowly. 

 

The town wasn't busy, by any means. It was a small town, and most people were drinking shitty beer in shorty's or at home. The cold fluorescent lights of the corner store seeped into the dim street. 

 

Wavered shouldered her way through the glass doors and headed to the fridge section near the back, wanting to hurry so she didn't have to drive home in the dark. 

 

She turned a corner too fast, bumped roughly into someone around the other side. 

 

"Shi- I mean, sorry! I didn't see you there, and i-"

Waverly looked up, and every cog in her mind whirred to a halt. The woman was beautiful. Dark brown hair framed a perfectly sculpted face, a Stetson placed firmly atop her brow. The woman smiled, a dimple appearing at the corner of her mouth, and said:

 

"Howdy. "

 

Two beautiful fingers very lightly tipped the hat. 

 

Waverly realised that God hated her and that she was going to sue him as soon as she Got into the afterlife. She also realised she had been staring, mouth ajar, at the stranger and had not replied.  She snapped her mouth closed. 

 

"Waverly Earp! Is my name, I mean. Sorry for bumping into you. I needed milk, and didn't want to drive home in the dark, so I- uh," she froze. Distracted. Brown eyes.

 

"Nicole. Nicole Haught. " she flashed another flawless grin, and Waverly felt her heart leave her body at 100 miles per hour. 

 

"New in town?" she squeaked.

 

Nicole's smile broadened.

 

"You could say that. You a local?"

 

Waverly laughed, high and nervous. Local. 'yes!' she thought, 'so local that my great-great-grandfather got half the town cursed, leaving us to deal with it! Relatives, eh?'

 

Instead, she said;

 

"Yeah! Lived here, uh, most, or all, of my life. So I know my way around town, if you know what I mean!" her fingers, in a desperate attempt to rescue her from the deep hole she had unfortunately dug, formed guns. She wiggled them a little bit. Everything got worse.

 

The visitor, Nicole, didn’t seem to notice Waverly going through the 5 stages of grief and another 3 stages she had managed to get lost and stumble into, and instead gave her another, striking, unbelievable grin. Her brown eyes sparkled in the shitty lighting of the aisle.

 

"Any chance you could show me around, then, Waverly Earp? Seeing as you, uh, 'know your way around town', right?" Nicole leaned forwards, and Waverly could smell the unbelievable amount of cologne that wafted off her, making her smell both extremely good and kind of like she'd accidentally ran full tilt into the perfume shelf of a cosmetics store. There was a woody, earthy smell under it that she couldn’t identify. She was drooling.

 

"Yes! I could! Do that! Any time you like!" Goddamn it. Bad job, Waverly. It was hard to think, though, when every single cell in her organs seem to have forgotten that admiring Nicole was not, in fact, what they were supposed to be doing at this point in time. Get it together, she thought. Give her your number. Do it.

 

"So, uh, if you want to meet up- so I can show you around, I mean- here's my number! Feel free to uh, call it."

 

That got her a brighter grin as Nicole's fingers brushed over her own. Waverly's stomach decided to complete a cheerleading routine for her.  They were obscenely warm. This was bad. Waverly was absolutely crushing on a stranger with a cool hat and a beautiful smile. Bad job, survival instincts.

 

"Oh I will," she purred. "Nice to meet you, Waverly."

 

The hat was tipped again, softly, gently, and Nicole winked. She then turned, paid for the box of cereal she'd been holding, and left the store.

 

Damn her. damn her and her womanly wiles and her supremely good ass. Stupid beautiful face. Stupid perfect smile. Waverly groaned into a nearby bag of rice, and then picked up a bottle of rum on her way to the counter.

 

Something told her it was gonna be a long week.

 

***

Something loud, boisterous, and called Wynonna woke her up at what was essentially the crack of dawn.

 

(It was, in fact, 11:24.)

 

She tried to muffle the banging on her door with a pillow over her face, but found that only succeeded in depriving her of the ability to breathe. She sighed, and got up.

 

Opening the door to her beloved family member, she thrust a finger in an accusatory manner right between Wynonna's eyes, and said;

 

"Wynonna, it better be a dead body or a near dead body, because I am NOT in the mood to be awake before at least two in the afternoon."

 

Confused, Wynonna's eyes flickered from Waverly's face to the near-empty bottle of rum on the floor. She opened her mouth. Waverly cut her off.

 

"I've changed my mind. It’s three in the afternoon, now. Goodbye, Wynonna. "

 

A boot found itself between the door and it's frame.

 

"Luckily for you sis, it _is_ a dead body. But, because I am the kindest, most perfect sister in the world, I will make you a Bloody Mary before we go."

 

Waverly groaned, and Wynonna clapped her heavily on the back.

 

"I know the feeling, little sis."

 

Later, in the car, Waverly nursed her portable Bloody Mary as Wynonna belted out a surprisingly ok version of ' _Another one bites the dust_ ', which was probably in bad taste, but Waverly couldn’t find it within herself to care. She had a headache that felt like the movement between tectonic plates, and her mouth felt like it could be successfully used to whittle a nice statue out of a block of wood.

 

Worst of all, the face of Corner Store Patron Nicole remained stuck in the forefront of her mind, like a cheesy motivational poster on an office wall. Fuck. (nice eyes!) Fuck. (good bone structure!) Fuck. (stunning ass!)

 

Waverly groaned, and Wynonna rolled down the windows so that all of Purgatory could hear her sing.

 

***

 

The body belonged to local well-dressed barn worker, Josiah. It was torn apart like a piñata, metaphorical candy and bad Paper-Mache coating the ground, trees, and barn wall like a kinda shitty paint job. His head stared, wide eyed, from the branch of a tree. His hand gave them an encouraging thumbs up from it's new home against the barn wall.

 

"Damn," Wynonna said from behind a Twizzler, letting it be torn in half with a snap, "He's dead."

 

Dolls, who turned to her, weary, said only; "Yes."

 

Waverly poked and prodded around the scene in a manner she hoped looked professional, but knew looked like she had no idea what she was doing. She prodded an unidentifiable organ with a stick, and winced at the sound it made.

 

Dolls sighed.

 

"So. Am I correct in assuming werewolves are the culprit?" he said. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, and Waverly felt a little bad for him.

 

"Mhhm." Wynonna replied, mouth full of candy.

 

"Probably, considering the scene has evidence of prints, and the body is covered in bite marks. Also, there's a bloody handprint on the barn."  
  
"I know." Dolls sighed.

 

"Then why ask us?"

 

"You're the experts, Earp."

 

Wynonna laughed, and tried to spin her gun before letting it clatter to the floor.

 

"Damn." she said.

 

Waverly cleared her throat and winced at how bad it sounded.

 

"So. There are werewolves living in Purgatory. We knew this. The issue _currently_ is that they've never done something as messy and obvious as this before, just the occasional disappearance or fucked-up cow. What changed? We haven't seen one since that one that tried to kill the vegetarian restaurant owner, which was months ago."

 

"Hmmm." Dolls said.

 

They left the scene knowing nothing but that people were not meant to be tugged apart like Lego pieces, and that something bad was coming.

 

***

 

There was something wrong with this town. Nicole knew it for a fact, had known since she decided to come here, but that wrongness had changed since she last visited. Before it was sad, bittersweet, full of resignation. Now? There was an undercurrent of anger. Something was wrong with the wrong, so to speak, and Nicole didn’t know what to do.

 

Leaving was not an option, because this wrongness  could _hurt_ people. She would rather die than let that happen. So, that left sticking around, doing nothing, waiting for something to pop off. Or, getting herself into trouble by investigating. (it wasn’t really a choice at all, to be honest.)

 

To calm her thoughts, keep herself centred, she entered the digits written on her arm one by one into her phone, and sent off a message to Waverly. Waverly with the stunning smile. Waverly with the nervous voice and wide eyes. Waverly with the long hair and cold touch. Waverly, who radiated kindness like a fire radiated heat.

 

Nicole slammed her face into her motel room's desk and groaned.

 

As she got up, put her coat on, and stuffed a bottle of cologne into her bag, she chided herself.

 

_No connections, Nicole!_

 

_No attachments, Nicole!_

 

_Its too dangerous for everyone, Nicole!_

 

_Whoops , Nicole, looks like you've developed a crush on a cute girl buying milk at the corner store!_

 

 

Dumbass.

 

If she found out what Nicole was, what Nicole could do… well. She'd rather not think about it.

 

Nicole left the motel, and set out to investigate.

 

Later that night, someone caught sight of a wolf with bright red fur, sprinting through the brush.

 

The motel worker told her this as she ate a breakfast of baked beans and scrambled eggs, and when she was done, she thanked them and very quietly said:

 

"I wouldn’t listen to those kinds of rumours. There's nothing but birds and cattle around here."

 

She went back to her room and closed the curtains. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading! so much! wow!
> 
> This is my first ever fanfic, which is A Lot to take in, but is something I can't get out of my head, so I have to put it on the page. I have another couple chapters roughed out, and a lot of twists and turns planned, so stick around for that? I guess?
> 
> apologies for bad grammar (my worst nemesis) because I don't have a beta reader and my writing technique is basically a stream of consciousness type deal. feel free to point it out and ill make sure those mistakes... disappear.
> 
> more apologies, because I don't live in the US or anywhere near there, and so, may occasionally use weird slang. I also have no idea what the US or canada is like, so everything is probably wrong there, whoops. Sorry! 
> 
> Love you, bye!
> 
> ps. when will Nicole wear a flannel shirt? cmon please I'm begging you it'll kill me and I'll thank it.
> 
> ps. ps. if you comment ill cry maybe. thanks so much. god bless each and every one of you.
> 
> (also the fic title and chap title are from second skin by Maiah Manser because im a hipster who only listens to songs i find on discs tossed into cursed wells.)


	2. This is the natural order of things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sisterly bonding, a date, and dolls monologuing about werewolves. Nicole nearly dies because of a crop top, please help her.

Waverly Earp severely regretted scheduling her date with Nicole so soon. God, she didn’t even know if date was the right word for it, because Nicole kept throwing around excuses based on learning the history of the town or being shown around. Thank god Shorty's was a historical site as well as a bar. Stupid attractive brunette. Stupid Nicole.

 

She very carefully adjusted her casual but not TOO casual outfit, before deciding that indecision might be a bad idea, and going with something entirely casual. The crop top showed off her abs, at the very least.

 

She put her forehead against the cold wood of the peeling doorframe, and tried to breathe.

 

Wynonna was downstairs, legs up on the coffee table, surrounded by peanut shells.

 

"You better be the one to clean that up, 'Nonna"  
  
That got her nothing but a pause in the deconstruction of legumes and an eyebrow that ascended her sister's face with the patience and winsomeness of a glacier.

 

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." she paused, threw the contents of a shell into her mouth, and continued, "Or on the floor. Or the sofa. Or-"

 

"I woke up on the perfectly normal side of the bed, thank you very much. I just happen to be-"

 

About to see the most beautiful woman in the world? Downing enough alcohol to topple a very ambitious elephant? Forgetting every single bit of research she'd ever done into this town's history?

 

"-on an Outing."

 

The eyebrow was matched by the grin that spread across her sister's face. The half-open peanut fell out of her hand and onto the sofa, forgotten, as she leaned forward to wiggle her brows menacingly in Waverly's direction.

 

Waverly's sister senses tingled, and then gave up trying to warn her and slunk back into their den.

 

Wynonna stood up and swung herself across Waverly's shoulders with the force of a gale.

 

"An Outing, you say? Hmm, elaborate but downplayed eye-makeup, check! Clothing that shows off the muscles you made trying to impress boys and girls in high school, check! Enough nervous energy to power a handheld gaming system-"  
  
"Wynonna, I _swear-_ "  
  
"-So you, my dearest, most delightful sister, are on a date!"

 

Wynonna spun away, hand over her heart, trying to act hurt. It didn't work, mostly because she kept trying to smile through it.

 

"And you wouldn’t tell me? Shocking."  
  
"It's not a date, I'm just-"

 

"Appalling. "  
  
"-showing a very nice, very new person around-"  
  
"Heartbreaking, even!"

 

"-Our town!"

 

They stood, making eye contact, for a while. It was a battle of wills. Waverly was defiant, chin tilted up, jaw set. Wynonna's piercing blue eyes scanned her for any sign of weakness, any flaw in her armour.

 

A peanut shell on the table rattled ominously, blown by the wind through the open windows.  
  
Wynonna sighed and closed her eyes. Waverly was the victor.

 

She had _won_.

 

A timeless battle, conquered. An enemy, defeated. The youngest sister claiming her place, at last.

 

Her sister's arm swung out to clothesline her before she headed out of the door.

 

"It's not Chunk again, is it?" she asked, concern and disgust mingling on her face.  
  
"Ew, No!"  
  
"Then I suppose you have my sisterly blessing to go hog wild."

 

Waverly sighed, and smiled, embracing her sister softly.

 

"I didn’t need your blessing, thank you very much. But I appreciate it."

 

"Love you too, sis!"

 

Stepping out onto the Homestead's porch, Waverly turned back to see her sister falling back onto the couch, stray peanut carnage flung everywhere.

 

"I meant what I said about you cleaning that up!"

 

***

 

Nicole was nervous. The bar was pleasantly crowded, patrons milling about softly, voices intertwined with the clink of glasses and miscellaneous clacks of pool. It wasn’t nighttime, not yet- rather, the peaceful period between lunch and dinner that was warm and content.

 

A plaque above the bar read "Drink Where Wyatt Earp Drunk!", and Nicole snorted into her beer when she noticed it. Where hadn't Wyatt drunk around here?

 

The door swung open, revealing a nervous looking Waverly, hair tied into a bun and perched perfectly on her head.

 

All of Nicole stopped and stood to attention.

 

Fuck. She had abs. She was wearing a crop top and she had _abs_.

 

ABS and BICEPS.

 

Nicole wished she'd written a new will, or maybe tried to reconnect with some of her remaining family, because she was absolutely fucked.

 

Waverly Earp and her stupid amazing muscles would be the death of her, probably.

 

"Nicole!" Waverly called, looking somewhere between relieved and anxious.

 

"Hey! Can I getcha anything?" she called, waving her over to the seat across from her before standing up to order some drinks.

 

"Oh! There's no need, really, I'll-"

 

Nicole winked.

 

"It's on me, Ms Earp. Have to pay you for your historical services somehow, right?"  
  
"- have a cider then, I guess?"

 

She looked ready to fall off her chair sideways.

 

"Right away, Ma'am."  
 

When Nicole reached the counter, she took a second to wipe her sweaty palms against her plaid shirt before shakily breathing into her hands. Ok, Haught. It's going great so far. Human interaction? Love that. Love doing that. Love being very good at doing that.

 

Holy shit she had no idea what she was doing, but it was working.

 

'Anxious tendency to make stuff up on the spot, don't fail me now." she whispered, and then yelped when the barman made a concerned noise.

 

"May I take your order?"  
  
she swallowed down her panicked monologue and smiled.

 

"One beer and one cider, please."

 

She carried the drinks back carefully, not wanting to spill a drop with her shaking hands, and placed the cider down in front of a much calmer looking Waverly, who smiled.

 

The chair made a terrible scraping noise when she pulled it back, and Nicole winced.

 

"So! What do you want to know about our fine town?" Waverly said, grinning over her glass, leaning forwards.

 

(The overpowering scent of cologne washed over her, comforting and overpowering at once.)  
  
"Well, Ms Earp, firstly, I have a query."  
  
"Ask away, Ms Haught." Waverly enunciated her last name carefully, throat bobbing and lips brushing up against one another softly.

 

Damn. She was sweating.

 

"The plaque above the bar mentions a Wyatt Earp. Any relation, or is it just a common name around here?"

 

Waverly's face twitched suddenly at the mention of his name, a burst of fear? No, something similar, that made Nicole regret bringing it up. Her face schooled itself quickly, bright smile returning, and she leaned closer. Nicole did the same.

 

They were basically whispering now, voices husky, eyes flickering between lips and other eyes, warm brown catching green.

 

(An onlooker would see two women, absorbed in each other, faces almost touching, hands just out of reach. They were crafting a private moment in a public space, and tension radiated off of them like heat from a fire. Dylan, local troublemaker, gleefully made kissy noises before Chrissy Nedley elbowed him hard in the stomach, pushing him off his bar stool and onto the floor. Neither woman noticed.)

 

"Great-grandfather, actually."

 

Of course they were related. Sorry, Wyatt.

 

"Tell me about the town's history then, descendant of Wyatt."

 

So Waverly did. Nicole knew most of it already, but liked listening to Waverly talk. Her eyes sparked, wrists flicking through the air to illustrate points, pastel painted nails flickering in the dim bar night. Her bracelets jangled, earrings clinked as she shook her head, and Nicole couldn’t help but smile. She would ask questions at just the right points, prompt Waverly in a rich direction, and Waverly would dive in full-heartedly. She'd done her research. She knew things Nicole didn’t, which was a surprise, and she had Opinions on nearly everything that were enjoyable to hear.

 

In other words, Nicole was absolutely fucked.

 

Later in the night, after Nicole returned with another round  (to Waverly's feeble protests of inhospitality,) she caught the younger woman making a face at her beer.

 

"Tragic backstory?" she prompted, drawing circles in the condensation.

 

Waverly's head whipped upright so fast her bun nearly came unfurled. Her earrings attacked the side of her face with vigour.

 

"Huh?" she said, eloquently.

 

"You're looking at my beer as if it has personally offended you. Thought you two may have a sordid history together."

 

"Oh! No, not really. Never developed a taste for it. Too bitter."

 

"Alcoholic fruit juice more to your taste?"  
  
"You may be being sarcastic, but yes, yes it is. I prefer drinking things that taste _nice,_ thank you very much."

 

There was the sound of a throat being cleared from the bar, and both women jumped.

 

"Hate to kick out such pleasant customers, but we're closing up soon. Better finish up." Shorty said, winking at Waverly before turning back to the taps.

 

"I'll get the bill," Nicole said, standing and stretching before Waverly's hand came down on her shoulder. Her body screamed at the contact.

 

Be cool, Haught. Be cool.

 

"Nonsense! You were up getting the drinks all night, and you're the guest here. There's no way I'm letting you pay."

Waverly huffed and crossed her arms.

 

Adorable.

 

Nicole leaned in, soft, slow, and let her mouth come level with Waverly's ear.

 

"Then how about you buy me a meal sometime to pay me back?"

 

Waverly went red at the whisper and froze, and Nicole took her chance, paying for the drinks before Waverly could recover. Score one for the away team.

 

"Can I drive you home, at least?"

 

"Certainly, Ma'am. It would be impolite to refuse." Nicole chuckled, holding the door open for the shorter woman.

 

"Stop that." Waverly mumbled,  marching towards a car parked nearby.

 

"Stop what?"  
  
"Being so damn charming."  
  
Nicole laughed. "It's all a ruse, I assure you." she leaned in close, whispering furtively. "I'm actually a nervous wreck."

 

"Doesn’t seem like it!"  
  
"That's always nice to hear."  
 

The drive was short, as Nicole was staying close by, and Waverly beckoned her closer to the driver window after she got out.

 

"We'll do this again, yeah?" she said, breath fogging in the night air, looking hopeful. Nicole shouldn’t. She shouldn’t, she really should stop it now, before anything bad happens.

 

But those eyes.

 

Fuck.

 

"Of course." Nicole said, and grinned, before planting a kiss softly on Waverly's forehead through the open window.

 

FUCK.

 

She smelt SO GOOD.

 

"Thanks!" Waverly squeaked, before hurriedly winding up the window and sinking into her seat. Nicole could hear her heartbeat go a thousand miles per hour, all the way up into her room.

 

She lay on the bed and groaned into her pillow.

 

_Foolish._

 

***

 

Dolls stood, facing the forest like it was a standoff between the two. It was dark, and cold, the night air shedding itself over his bare arms like water.

 

Something was wrong.

 

He could smell it in the air that came off the forest, in the blood of the deceased farmhand, that musky stench of fur and sweat.

 

Goddamn wolves.

 

He's been called here two months ago, suspicious animal maulings and the occasional missing person that hinted at deeper activity, something hiding in the undercurrent of purgatory. Wynonna and her sister had been helpful, if not essential in explaining what was going on, but something was coming. That much was obvious.

 

Something was coming, and it was in the woods.

 

The smells assaulted him, numerous, permeating the air around the trees like smoke.

 

He knew how to deal with one werewolf. Two, even.

 

But this many?

 

He needed a bigger gun and a raise.

 

  
  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legit just wrote this and dont have a beta so uh. any mistakes are on me.  
> thanks for all the support last chapter, sorry this took so long! exams are ocurring. i should be studying. i am not studying. such is life i suppose. 
> 
> anyway find me on tumblr at https://lesbianesques.tumblr.com/
> 
> also nicole being brunette is not a mistake, but a plot point. it'll make sense, i swear!!
> 
> chap title from Moonshine Freeze by This is the kit.


	3. Shaving off breaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an attack that ends badly, an attack that ends better than expected, and Nicole meets the family, sort of. also a crisis.

The second mauling of the week was called in to the sheriff's office at 8:43 on a Wednesday. Waverly and Wynonna met Dolls out by the diner, far too close to the centre of Purgatory for comfort. It was much the same as the last, the body decorating the walls and floor in a festive color, limbs detached like lego pieces and scattered across the street. It was another well-known face around Purgatory, Eric something-or-other, who had got drunk and hung around regularly back when Waverly still worked at Shorty's.

 

Both Wynonna and dolls had matching looks of grim determination on their faces.

 

And Waverly was scared.

 

The thing is, with the werewolves, is that there would be the occasional mauling as one eventually lost control, or _maybe_ a couple of mauled sheep, but never directed chaos. Never bodies mauled and not eaten, never ones that were there as a message and not a tragic casualty of their monstrous nature, and god if she wasn’t terrified by this change in MO.

 

Because it meant that something was different now, and none of them knew what it was.

 

"Patrol." was the first thing said by anyone, and it was by Wynonna.

 

She looked over at Dolls and gestured towards the body.

 

"Nightly patrols. Around the outskirts of town. Maybe set up some cameras, try to catch the creatures lurking about. Right now, we have nothing except what our guts are telling us, and I don't know about you but mine feels like I've just eaten an entire bag of dried apricots."

 

Waverly grimaced. She remembered that.  
 

Dolls nodded, posture stiff, facing Wynonna entirely.

  
"I can take the north if you can take the south. I'll borrow a patrol car from Nedley."

 

"Sounds good. Start at seven?"

 

"What about me?" She interjected, stomach sinking. She knew what was happening. Silly waverly, thinking she could be included.

 

' _Go hold out the homestead, Waverly, make sure no moths get at my decorative throw pillows!'_

 

_'How about you stay in the car and try to find a radio station that doesn’t play rock or country while we take this one down, waves!'_

 

_'I know I'm going to be in mortal danger, but why don't you pick me up an Irish coffee instead of, I don’t know, helping!'_

 

It was always the same, and this time would be no different.

 

"Oh! Well… you could always stay back at the homestead in case we need backup?" said Wynonna, a mixture of pity and worry clouding her eyes.

 

"Sure, Wynonna. I'll do that." she snarled, feeling humiliated, feeling stupid.

 

She turned to leave, one hand pressed against the cold stone of the alleyway to keep her upright, when Dolls hesitantly touched her shoulder.

 

He leaned in with concern lacing his eyes, which flickered towards the back of her sister.

 

"It's not that she thinks you can't do it, you know. She just worries you'll get hurt." he says, soft and slow, though he's said it all before.

 

"And what? It's fine if she gets hurt, if you get hurt, but I'm supposed to stay back and let it happen?"  
  
he sighs.

 

"You and I both know she doesn’t give a damn about her own chances of being hurt."  
  
"Yeah, but I do! And she should know that!"  
 

There was silence then, for a while. Waverly standing stiffly as Dolls leaned against the wall, both watching Wynonna as she knelt down to inspect the body.

 

"Trouble is, Earp, I'm not sure she does."

 

***

 

It was twelve when Waverly realized she might have made a slight mistake. She was near the center of town, keeping her own personal patrol where neither Wynonna or Dolls would find her, somewhere safe enough so that she didn’t feel guilty and proactive enough that she felt as if she was helping, at least.

 

It wasn’t an alleyway. No, it was a street, sidewalks cracked and dusty, street lamps penetrating the fog mercilessly. The stillness is what felt the most wrong. No cars moved, no wind blew, and there was not a single sign of a living thing in her vicinity. Her fingertips brushed the handle of the pistol for reassurance.

 

There was a sound. It rung loud through the silence, though it wasn’t really that loud at all, she froze. It came from behind her.

 

So she turned around.

 

There was nothing but  empty street.

 

It was hard not to laugh, in relief, at her own stupidity. She should have seen that coming, really. There was no reason to be so highly strung.

 

Unfortunately, the sigh didn’t come from her. The moist air hit the back of her neck, warm and damp and terrifying in what it implied.

 

That is when she realized she might have made a slight mistake.

 

She turned, and there it was. Massive. Towering. Covered in gleaming white fur that shone in the darkness. It was humanoid, vaguely, but more importantly it was a predator, which her body recognized instantly. All of her tensed, muscles screaming, as it's body trembled, and it leaned in.

 

Teeth. Slitted eyes. Warm, warm breath. 

 

The monster laughed. Choking, growling, wet laughter, like the gurgling of a blocked drain.

 

And then a massive arm reached up, out, and came down-

 

-and something barreled out of an alleyway at the speed of Fuck.

 

A claw sunk through the flesh of her cheek, but the monster was pushed sideways so far that it avoided doing any real damage.

 

And then there was two.

 

The new one was smaller, bright red fur, and looked like a very large wolf. It also had its fangs stuck deep in the larger one's arm.

 

She scrambled upright, trying to think through the static of adrenaline, pulling the gun out of her holster.

 

She knew full well the bullets wouldn’t do shit.

 

The smaller wolf was clawing at the larger one, scrambling for a hold on it's sinuous flesh, eyes flashing in the light. It was like watching a cat try to take down a muscly adult. You know what's going to happen, and when. It took only a moment for the monster to adjust to this new development, and it's other arm swung around to encircle the red wolf's neck, throwing it into the side of a parked car, which crumpled, wailed, and flashed in response.

 

You should have run, a voice said, soft and smug in it's ascended plane of knowledge.

 

The bullet hit the beast in the eye. Her aim was good. Her aim was always good. It howled in rage, clutching at it's face, blindly swiping at her again as she desperately ducked out of the way. She was backtracking desperately, trying to avoid the claws, when her back touched brick. Cool. Fun. She loved being trapped and also killed.

 

And then the other wolf was in front of her, faster than she could see, between her and the Beast. It was crumpled and bleeding, teeth bared, and as the claws came closer it deftly grasped the wrist, and tore.

 

The hand was flung sideways, and the Beast shrieked, stumbling backwards in panic before barreling through the streets, and away.

 

For the first time in what felt like minutes, Waverly breathed.

 

And then remembered there was a whole other werewolf.

 

The gun was back out in a second, aimed right between the eyes. It was covered in blood, fur matted and torn, eyes wild.

 

The problem is, it wasn’t _threatening._

 

If anything, it looked scared, hurt and crumpled and whining at her like it was nothing more than a stray dog.

 

"Don't give me that!" she hissed, trying to find it in herself to pull the trigger, hinder it until Wynonna could come and dispatch of it permanently.

 

The wolf whined again. It had very sad-looking brown eyes.

 

"I know what you are! You're- you're _dangerous._ Just because you saved me this one time doesn’t mean you won't hurt somebody else. And what then?"

 

The gun trembled In her hands.

 

"What then? Then you- you kill somebody you love and go crazy, and-" it looked hurt, almost, by her words. Sad. "-I've seen it before. I've seen it before, you know."

 

She wasn’t trying to convince the wolf.

  
"FUCK!"

 

It was harsh and loud and it startled the beast, making it flinch back and yelp in response.

 

"Go! You stupid animal, just- fuck!"

 

The gun came down, and the beast ran, limping into the night and away from her as fast as it could go. She felt bad. Dirty.

 

The car kept wailing. Waverly clenched her jaw, and went home.

 

***

 

She bumped into Nicole again two days later, on her way to the station. The cut  on her face had a rather massive bandage thrust upon it by her doting sister, and she looked like she hadn't slept in days.

 

This was all that came to mind because Nicole looked gorgeous. Damn her.

 

"Waverly! Fancy seeing you here, I was just-" she said, and stopped when her eyes caught on the bandage, eyes flashing with concern,

 

"-Jesus, are you ok?"

 

Waverly smiled back in response.

 

"Just my sister overreacting to a scratch. I'm fine, I swear."

 

"If you're sure. Where you headed?"

 

"The station. I, uh, work there. As a consultant. Sometimes."

 

That got a grin from Nicole, dimple flashing in the light.

 

"Well, my lady, I was just heading over there myself. Would you like me to accompany you?"

 

"What year is it, 1956? And no, I would not mind."  
  
"Wow. It's almost enough to say you find my company enjoyable, Miss Earp."

  
"Shut up!" she said, blushing.

 

The walk there was the loveliest ten minutes of the last two days, with Nicole rambling about the local diner's food so intently she almost clotheslined an unsuspecting passerby.

 

They got to the station soon enough, Nicole following Waverly inside and towards the meeting room, which was occupied. It was a three way standoff between Nedley, Wynonna, and Dolls. All three looked somewhere between agitated and furious. And then, all three jumped when Waverly rapped lightly on the door.  Nedley waved the both of them in, which was a surprise, mostly because he didn’t usually let civilians do anything around the office, let alone tourists like Nicole. Even more of a surprise was when his grimace faltered and turned into a rough smile, as he slapped Nicole on the back. Pain flickered across her face, and she flinched, as if it had been hard enough to hurt.

 

"Haught! Damn surprise, seeing you here. Thought you'd never visit. See you've met one of the Earps."

 

Wynonna looked mildly shellshocked at this development, glancing between Waverly and Nicole like she was attempting to visually see the connection between the two. Dolls looked somewhat more sceptical, nose wrinkled, glaring.

 

"You- you know Sheriff Nedley?" Waverly squeaked.

 

"Sorta, yeah. My grandma and his dad were good friends, back in the day. She, uh, used to live around here. After they both died, he visited for a while. Helped me sort out the will and get into Policing."  
  
"She abandoned it soon enough. Likes travelling too much. Damn shame, she's a good cop." he grunted.

 

"Hold up. How do you know her, sis?" Wynonna said, confusion etched upon her face.

 

And then, understanding dawned.

 

"Ohhhhhh. When you went out the other night-" her eyes widened. "The drinking! After you got milk! I get it!"

 

Nicole made a noise of alarm and looked to Waverly.

 

"Yeah, uh. Nicole, this is my sister, Wynonna. Wynonna, Nicole."

 

Dolls coughed. He still looked unimpressed.

 

"Policing, huh? How'd that work out when criminals can smell you coming from a mile off?"  
 

That got a laugh from Wynonna, and another flinch from Nicole, who looked at Dolls with wide eyes.

 

"You do kinda smell like a Lush store and a Victoria's Secret had a fight over who could be the most conspicuous, scent-wise. No offence." Wynonna chuckled.

 

"Hmm." said Dolls.

 

"Oh, uh- I have issues. With smelling. Can never tell how much I'm putting on, you know? And I sweat a lot, so I figure it's better to smell like the perfume aisle of a department store than a teenage boy who hasn’t learnt how to shower. "

 

She sounded nervous, and Waverly couldn’t help but feel bad. It must have been kinda intimidating to be surrounded by so many large personalities at once, especially ones you don't know. She softly put a hand on Nicole's back, hoping for support.

 

Nicole gasped, softly, and Waverly almost pulled away, before Nicole wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

 

Waverly didn’t notice the narrowing of Doll's eyes.

 

"If you don't mind, Haught, I need to have a meeting with these three. You can go."

 

There was a moment of silence, and then Nicole sighed.

 

"Fine."  
  
she turned towards Waverly as she opened the door.

 

"See you soon, yeah?" she whispered, hopefully.

 

"Yeah. I'll text you." Waverly smiled as Nicole shut the door.

 

 

***

 

Dolls was an issue. She didn't know what kind of issue, but she could tell he wasn’t human, and he certainly didn’t seem to like her very much. She left the office in a huff, marching towards the café for a cup of something warm, before heading home to prowl around her borrowed room.

 

She wasn’t healing fast enough. The claw marks made by the white wolf refused to fade at the speed they should have, lingering and stinging and forcing her to rebandage herself every morning, just in case. It was a startling reminder of her own mortality. One she hadn't had in a long time.

 

And the wolf. God, the wolf. It was unlike any she'd seen before, bigger and stronger than any breed or variety, imbued with magic of some kind. Nicole, for the first time in a very long time, was afraid.

 

There was something worse, though. Worse than the injuries, then the fear of the unknown, then Doll's distrust.

 

The fact that if Waverly ever found out what she was, she would see the same fear she'd seen the night before, the same disgust. The fact that, no matter what, Waverly thought of her as a monster.

 

And god, that was a bitter pill to swallow.  
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i have no idea how to write action scenes. also still no beta. anyway, hOW ABOUT THIS COMING EPISODE HUH!!! i trust emily, she better do right by me. Id Die For Nicole Any day. 
> 
> im probs gonna come back and edit this later because it doesnt read well and its Bugging Me.
> 
> commenting and kudos-ing makes my whole day and validates my existence. if you do it, i love you.
> 
> find me on tumblr at https://lesbianesques.tumblr.com/ for the occasional opinion on sesame seeds. also, lots of gay stuff.
> 
> song title from Sprained Ankle by Julien Baker!!
> 
> also if u have any criticisms... lay em on me. I Want To Improve.


	4. So soon to let you in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SuRPRISE this was fast. 
> 
> Waverly stakes out, makes out, and gets some chinese takeout.
> 
> Nicole is hurt, healed, and hurt again, in that exact order.
> 
> meanwhile, Wynonna is pretty damn cool, and loves her sister to death.

 

"This? Is a _terrible_ idea." waverly hissed, trying to keep low to the ground without ingesting any nearby plant life.

 

"I don't see you providing any alternatives, sis. " Wynonna replied, glaring at her from her position halfway up a nearby tree.

 

The woods was maybe the worst place to be in an oncoming werewolf situation. And yet, that's where they found themselves, in an attempt to track the beast that had attacked Waverly the other night. The beast. Singular.

 

If she was being honest, Waverly wasn’t brave enough to admit that she let the red one go. So she was mulling it over. Trying to come up with a better way to explain it, to think about it. The problem is, there really wasn’t one.

 

She was a terrible Earp.

 

Dolls had gone ahead, scouting for any sign of the creature, picking his way through the twigs and shrubs without making a sound. Waverly was trying to be inconspicuous, and Wynonna? Well, she was attempting to climb a tree. Attempting was certainly the right word for it. She kept snapping the weaker branches, letting them tumble to the floor, and she was certainly not above swearing loudly whenever she managed to give herself a splinter.

 

Suffice to say, if there was anything in the woods, it should be heading their way any moment now.

 

"Aha!" Wynonna called triumphantly, hoisting herself above the canopy.

 

There was a moment of silence, and then a barrage of swearwords whispered so desperately, Waverly thought someone must have died.

 

"Wyn? You good up there?" she called softly, watching her sister's boots scramble for purchase.

 

Her head poked out, face taut.

 

"Get up here. I need you to tell me I'm not crazy. Right now," she hissed.

 

Waverly scrambled upright, nimbly weaving her way through the tree's branches before perching next to her sister and grinning.  She was almost certainly not smiling smugly.

 

Almost.

 

After a brief snort of derision and an eye roll towards the heavens, Wynonna stiffened again, and pointed.

 

There, in a clearing quite a ways from where they stood, were people. A lot of people. Grimy and battered and _angry_ people. Ripped clothes and guns and trailers all parked around a central campfire, a makeshift stage made out of logs, and on it…

 

…was the beast.

 

The thing about werewolves is that they have three forms. One, is their human form, nearly indistinguishable from any other human. Yes, Waverly knew there were some minor differences in temperature, teeth structure, and some major strength and healing upgrades, but otherwise? They looked like people. Then, there was the wolf form.  Like a wolf but bigger, paws slightly more dexterous and with somewhat less intelligence than they would have as a person, but loads more animal instinct. Finally, there was the in-between form. This was supposed to be slightly bigger than the average person, but with canine jaws and ears and fur. Basically, the typical werewolf image.

 

If she had to pick one, it would be the third, but it was unlike anything she'd seen or read about before. It was massive, for one. About twice the size of a regular person, with arms so thick an axe couldn’t get through in one swing, and bulging muscles covered with tendons like cable. Veins stood out around it's neck, framing its jowls, which were flecked with froth. The teeth and the eyes, though, were the worst part. The teeth were jagged and unformed, jutting like broken bones, and the eyes were a sickly yellow, sickle thin pupil sweeping the crowd like a searchlight.

 

Suffice to say, Waverly nearly fell out of the tree.

 

"Is that… is that what attacked you? On the street? And you were only _scratched_?" Wynonna whispered.

 

"I got lucky. Very lucky."

 

"We needta tell Dolls. God, there's so many of them. I bet over a quarter of the 77 are there."  
  
"How about we climb down from this tree first?"  
  
"Good plan."

 

 

***

 

The library was maybe Waverly's favorite place. The quiet bustle of students and turning pages gave it a homey atmosphere, and the books provided a welcome escape from anything going in in real life. However, currently she was there on a mission. She was going to do what she did best: research the Fuck out of that towering beast.

 

And so she did. Several days in a row she was in there, flicking through a mixture of ancient tomes, shoddy websites, and scientific handbooks, as well as Heftig's book on the history of Purgatory and the supernatural, which was maybe her favorite of all time.

 

So, as absorbed as she was with her work, she was maybe a little surprised to see Nicole strolling through the door, two coffees in her grasp.

 

"Hey there. Heard from a certain someone that you'd been spending a lot of time around here lately doing some hard work, so I thought I'd bring you something to prop you up for another couple hours, if you don't mind?"

 

She said it hesitantly, looking nervous, weight placed firmly on her back leg as if she was looking to escape.

 

Waverly smiled. "Of course it's ok. One question though, is the something the coffee, or the company?"  
  
she blushed at that, face burning slightly and mouth twitching up at the corners.

 

"Do you mind if I…?" she gestured towards the chair beside Waverly, still looking somewhat reserved. It could be about what happened in the Police Station, Waverly theorized. Dolls and Wynonna hadn't been too friendly, if she was being honest.

 

"Not at all. I'm bored out of my mind right now, honestly. I'm not getting anywhere."  
  
Nicole frowned at that, cupping her coffee and leaning over the table to glance at the books covering it.

 

"Werewolves, huh? You doing some research into urban legends?"

 

"Something like that," she sighed.

 

"So what do think of them? Werewolves, I mean." Nicole said, leaning back in her chair, eyes flickering softly over Waverly's own. God, Waverly wanted so bad to pull Nicole over and press their lips together, because hers looked ever so soft. And god. Her shoulders in the faded blue flannel shirt she was wearing were perfect, and her neck, and her arms…

 

"Waverly?"  
  
she snapped back to attention.

 

"Right! Werewolves. Well, the thing about werewolves is that you have predatory animal instinct mixed with human intelligence, right? But the thing is, theoretically I mean, often the animal instinct can take over and control them in stressful situations, making them dangerous to be around. And if they hurt someone they love, which they often do, they go mad, overwhelmed with sadness and anger, eventually succumbing to it and mauling everything in sight. There's a lot of, uh, obviously fictional reports that say the same. So it would probably be better to quarantine them, make sure they can't do any damage, you know?"  
  
She was rambling, she knew. Nicole was frowning at her, hands picking at the plastic lid of her coffee, brows drawn together and tounge flickering softly over her lips. Still nervous, then.

 

"Do you think… Do you think there could be good werewolves, though?"  
  
Waverly snorted at that. She'd asked the same question as a kid, tugging lightly at her father's coats, whispering it to Wynonna after they heard another gunshot around the house. They had always given her the same sort of response, a sort of sad look, and the promise that one day she would understand. And one day she did.

 

Ward had been bitten when a group of them attacked the homestead in recompense for one they had lost. At first, he'd taken it badly, drinking himself into a stupor and refusing to move off the couch or eat. It had taken another attack for him to decide to continue regardless of his new nature, though the silver of Peacemaker burned his flesh every time he wielded it. It was one night, when he'd got so drunk he could barely stand, that Waverly decided to ask what had happened to Willa. He'd yelled, screamed, flung his bottle against the wall so hard it burst like a firework, scattering glass across the wooden floorboards.

 

And then, he'd started to change. Bones cracking, screaming till his throat was raw, he'd surged towards her with claws outstretched, grasping her around the throat like she was nothing more than a doll.

 

Wynonna had pulled the trigger on peacemaker, and that was that.

 

If her father couldn’t control it, who could?

 

"No. No way. I think there could be good people who are werewolves, sure, but they're a danger nonetheless. They'd turn. They all do."

 

That got her another frown, and Nicole drew away from her slightly, holding her coffee between them with shaking hands.

 

Realizing what she'd said, she desperately attempted to backtrack.

 

"Hypothetically, of course! Because they aren't real. They're not, like, actually a thing. Naturally." she sputtered, trying to cover up her terrible mistake.

 

"Yeah. Naturally." Nicole replies, but it’s distant.

 

"Sorry, I just- is what happened the other day at the station bothering you? I know Wynonna and Dolls can be a lot, sometimes, and they were being especially intimidating the other day. It's been a tough work week."

 

Waverly's hand goes to Nicole's shoulder, brushing some of her dark hair away to find… A bandage. It's wrapped firm around her shoulder, thick gauze continuing past the collar of her shirt and down her back. Waverly gasps, at that, immediately meeting Nicole's terrified gaze.

 

"You're hurt! Oh god, were you attacked? There's been a whole load of animal attacks lately, and god, I should have warned you not to go out at night, but I completely forgot, and-"

 

"Hey! Whoa, Waverly, I'm fine, I swear. I pulled a muscle attempting to work out the other day because I didn't stretch properly, that's all. "

 

Nicole was smiling now, soft and sweet, hand coming to rest on Waverly's back for reassurance. Her calloused thumb rubbed circles over Waverly's shoulder blade, heat searing through her shirt, and god she was so close to Nicole right now.

 

She was so close that the unbridled force that was her cologne was making her eyes water, but under it she could smell… something. It was warm and musky and familiar, and Waverly wanted so bad to press herself into the crook of Nicole's neck and breathe it in.

 

"Nicole." she said.

 

Nicole's eyes met hers. They were large, brown, warmer than anything she'd ever seen, and Waverly wanted to melt.

 

"Can I kiss you?"

 

Her eyes widened at that, lips parting in surprise as her eyes searched Waverly's for sincerity. There it was again. The fear.

 

"Are you sure?" she said. Her voice was husky, and low, and Waverly wanted to Die.

 

"Of course. Of course I'm sure." Waverly said, smiling at the realization that this may be the surest she's ever been, and she leant in soft and slow to press herself against Nicole, who stiffened and then relaxed into her, pressing herself into Waverly in response. Nicole's arms found Waverly's, and they were kissing now, really kissing, as one of her hands trailed up to the back of Waverly's neck, fingers flickering over soft skin. Nicole gently grasped Waverly's bottom lip with her teeth, and Waverly _moaned,_ pleasure sparking at every heated touch of Nicole's fingers.

 

Gently, Gently, they pulled apart, and Nicole looked stunned.

 

"Wow." she whispered. Her eyes were comically wide.

 

"And here I thought you'd be the cocky one, miss Haught," she purred, leaning in to ghost her lips across Nicole's cheekbone, feeling the shiver that ran through the other woman's body.

 

"Ngh?"  was the comically high pitched response.

 

Waverly laughed, and went in for another kiss.

 

***

 

She'd offered to drive Nicole to her motel, but Nicole had very badly lied about needing some air, before pecking Waverly on the cheek and scampering off in the other direction.

 

The entire car trip home was spent belting out the lyrics to an assortment of cheesy radio love songs, stopping briefly to pick up some Chinese food from her local takeaway and a celebratory cider from the very same corner store she'd met Nicole in.

 

When she'd walked through the door grinning like a madwoman, Wynonna had known something was up. She'd pulled her down and onto the couch, her legs resting upon Waverly's stomach as Waverly described every interaction she'd had with Nicole, her sister beaming proudly and stuffing red bean dumplings into her mouth with glee.

 

"I," she'd declared, waving her chopsticks around like they were a conductor's baton, "am the proudest sister in the whole world. My little sister's all grown up at last. First dumping Chunk, and now this? Stunning."

 

She'd then wiped away a fake tear with the very same chopsticks, and very nearly poked out one of her eyes.

 

Waverly had punched her lightly on the shoulder, grinning, pulling her sister in for a hug.

 

"You know I love you, right?"

 

There was silence for a second as Wynonna readjusted herself against Waverly, before she said, softly, "I don't know if I deserve that."

 

Waverly pulled away again, trying to meet Wynonna's eyes, which were aimed despondently at a floorboard and shining in the light.

 

"Hey. You were gone for a while, but you're back now. You're back. And you're trying, Wynonna. God knows I love you for that."  
  
Then Wynonna is pulling her closer again, burying her head into Waverly's shoulder, whispering "I love you too, sis. I love you so much."

 

***

 

Waverly woke up once again to a rough hammering against her door.

 

"Get up. Fuck, Waverly, get up!"

 

She tried to fling herself off the bed, but was hopelessly tangled in her blankets. Stumbling to the door, she flung it open to her sister, who looked wild and scared in the early light. Peacemaker was gripped desperately in one of her white-knuckled hands.

 

"'Nonna? What's happening?"  
  
"There's a bunch of them outside. And one of them- Fuck, Waverly, it got past the border. One of them's coming towards the house."  
  
Her heart stopped. Towards the house? Fuck.

 

"But the silver-" she said, desperate, confused, and Wynonna threw her a coat.

 

"The silver didn’t work, ok?"

 

They hurled themselves down the stairs as fast as they could, Wynonna slamming open the front door and pointing the barrel of her gun at the man on the other side. He wore the same mark the members of The Revenants did. The original wolves.  Ones who were still alive, after all these years.

 

And it was none other than Bobo Del Ray.

 

He'd changed, somewhat, since Waverly had seen him last. His head was shaved down the sides, his smile more infuriating than ever, looking more intimidating than he ever had before.

 

More importantly, however, were the patches of white that marred his previously brunet beard. Oh.

 

"You." she hissed.

 

"Me, indeed. Long time no see, little Earp.  I think the last time was what, when I tasted a bit of that fine Earp flesh? Your father, wasn’t it? How time flies."

 

"How'd you pass the barrier, you fuck?" Wynonna snarled, pressing peacemaker under his chin, expecting the general sizzle of silver touching werewolf flesh.

 

He smiled again, two fingers pushing the barrel of the gun. There was nothing. Not a hint of a reaction.

 

"Oh, you Earps always have lived in the past. That weakness to silver you were always exploiting? I'm afraid it'll be gone for good soon enough. We will be immortal, and you, will be dead." he laughed, head tossed back.

 

"Impossible."

 

Bobo tutted softly, before he raised his hand. The nails sharped, lengthened, and he ran it down the inside of the door with a terrible shrieking sound.

 

"This was a courtesy call. Expect another, more painful visit soon enough."

 

And then he walked away.

 

The sisters watched him leave.

 

***

 

Nicole couldn’t stop lurking around the woods. She just had a feeling, deep in her gut, that whatever was going on in purgatory had it's roots in the forest, but it was far too dangerous to check. So she loitered around it, wandering the terrain and exploring the land to see how it'd changed. It was getting dark now, and she was nearing the Earp homestead, so she decided to head back the way she'd came. She thought of Waverly, kissing her tenderly, caring about her wellbeing. She was, in short, distracted.

 

That's when it hit her.

 

It barreled out of the woods, a brown werewolf with burning eyes, knocking her to the floor like she was nothing. It was half-turned, grasping hands desperate to find purchase around her throat, hissing into her ear. The surprise gave it an advantage, but she fought back, landing a solid punch to it's face that cracked a bone before it slammed her head into the earth. A meaty fist came down upon her already injured chest, driving the air out of her and cracking a recently-healed rib, but she couldn’t move. The world blurred around her. she couldn’t think. Concussion. Probable concussion.

 

She saw the wolf rear back it's head and howl, her own head ringing like a church bell. Claws dug deep into one of her thighs, and she hissed, finding purchase on it's shoulder and wrenching it apart, dislocating it and throwing backwards, a foot away from her. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t find the focus to turn, to change. And dying, god it hurt. She'd come back.

 

She always came back.

 

But her body would be found, and Waverly-

 

The beams of light blinded her and the wolf in turn. There was a sound her sluggish brain couldn’t identify, loud and roaring, and then movement and wind and the sound of metal hitting flesh centimeters from her ear.

 

Inches from her prone form was Waverly Earp's very big car.

 

"Get away from her, you Shithead!" yelled a very familiar voice somewhere nearby.

 

She tried to speak, but she still wasn’t breathing right, and her voice was nothing but a desperate croak as she struggled to sit upright, fingers digging into the turf.

 

Her vision was blurry, but she could make out three figures. One, the wolf, mangled and broken, was nearly prone. It hissed and sputtered, howling obscenities, and Nicole needed to think, to fight, to protect.

 

But there was an orange glow from the second figure, and Nicole saw the gun. The gunshot echoed around the hills, and the crack of bone occurred as the wolf slowly shifted back, leaving a dirty young man with the telltale mark of a revenant.

 

And then, the third figure was there, urgent and panicked (She could hear the heartbeat as loud as a drum, fast and worried and filled with fear) and saying something she couldn’t quite make out.

 

"Hey! Hey! Stay with me, Nicole, baby, come on. Don't try to move. C'mon baby, stay with me."

 

It was Waverly, she knew, somewhere in the back of her head. She tried to get her eyes to focus, taking in her features, illuminated by the car's headlights.

 

She took a breath, slowly, and whispered; "You called me baby."

 

Waverly laughed at that, and god, it was a wonderful sound.

 

"Of course. You just got attacked by a werewolf, and you're surprised I called you baby."

 

"Mhmmm. 's sweet. You're sweet." she murmured again, struggling to breathe with the pain radiating throughout her chest.

 

"Do we call an ambulance, or put her in the car? Hell, can an ambulance drive way out here? Damn it all to hell, there's no connection anyway. Fuck , just get her in the backseat, I'll get her there," said the other figure, who was probably Wynonna.

 

"I'm gonna lift you up now, ok Nicole? Stay with me."

 

"M' stayin' Waves." she whispered, but her torso screamed as Waverly lifted her, and she yelped in pain.

 

"Shit. Wynonna, can I get some help, please?"  
  
"Fuck. Sure, Fuck."

 

They lifted her together, gently as they could, into the backseat of the car. Peacemaker brushed against her limp wrist, and the silver sent red-hot pangs of pain through her arm, forcing her to suck air between her teeth in another pained groan.

 

Thankfully, they assumed it was the various injuries speaking, Waverly whispering assurances into her ear as Wynonna slammed her foot into the pedal.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sjfdnas i wrote this after watching the new episode ive never felt so inspired in my life. not gonna lie, im pretty damn happy with how this turned out. also, i know nothing medically and am too scared to look it up, so im taking creative licence. 
> 
> DONT WORRY i know nicole's getting her shit kicked in a bit right now from all sides, but she soon Steps Up and decides to do shit about it. sometimes, this involves just Being A Dog. waverly is saying a buncha stuff right now because she's sad and sometimes, accepting bad things as the norm is easier than admitting that they were bad things and that people you look up to can be kinda shitty. she will learn, if nicole has anything to say about it. also doc is showing up next chapter, wow, wonder what HE's up to. (im so sorry for what i've done to doc.)
> 
>  
> 
> No beta still , so if u see mistakes, HMU.
> 
> Tumblr at http://lesbianesques.tumblr.com/
> 
> chap title from The Evening by Thao & The Get Down Stay Down
> 
> please comment it makes my Week


	5. Some strings slackening, others giving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> motel rooms, waffles consumed, a lonely wolf howls at the moon.
> 
> also doc im so fucking sorry it'll get better i swear.

Waverly was this close to having a panic attack. Her breathing was getting up there, quick and fast, and she couldn’t slow it down as she paced the halls outside Nicole's room. How long had she known her? not long, that was for sure, but fuck. She cared. She cared about Nicole so goddamn much, with her gentle smile and loving eyes, her tendency to listen to what Waverly said with rapt attention, like she cared. She loved Nicole's bravery, her confidence, just… all of her.

 

And now Nicole was hurt. Nicole was hurt, and it was a werewolf that did it.

 

What if she was bitten? She hadn't seen a bite mark, but there were claw marks there for sure, and-

 

"Hey," Wynonna said, soft and sad.

 

"She's gonna be alright. I don’t know the girl, but from what you've told me, she's a hell of a strong one. I mean, somebody with the constitution to listen to you ramble on about cowboys has to be a fighter."

 

Waverly cracked a smile at that and muttered "Shut up," in her sister's direction.

 

***

 

Nicole blearily thanked every god she knew.

 

The doctor currently looking down at her with a mixture of disappointment and worry was, of all people, Gus.

 

Gus knew. Thanks to her mother, thanks to Nicole passing through purgatory generations ago, Gus knew.

 

And Gus was currently tutting at her like any mother would.

 

"Only God himself knows how long you've been alive, but it seems part of the curse is being forced to eternally act your age."  
 

Nicole winced.

 

"So. I can tell you have a concussion easily enough, but it's your chest that I'm really worried about. I'm gonna need to take off your shirt. "

 

Nicole nodded, and watched the woman she'd last seen as a toddler as she tiredly fiddled with the buttons on her shirt. It came off easily enough, and Gus stiffened at the sight of the now crimson-stained bandages around her torso.

 

"Seems like someone's been busy since they got back."

 

"There's something going on. Waverly- she was in danger."  
  
"And I Imagine you stepped in? got in the way of whatever was trying to kill her?"  
  
"Mhmm." she said, sheepishly.

 

"Haven't changed a goddamn bit. That much was obvious when you visited me the other night, honestly."

 

"S' how it's gotta be. You said it yourself, part of the curse n' all." she slurred.

 

Gus spent the better part of an hour stitching the wounds she'd received from both attackers and lecturing her about nearly dying for attractive women, let alone hitting on 'practically [her] daughter'.

 

When she finally opened the door, Waverly burst into the room like a woman possessed.

 

"Honestly, you've known each other for about two weeks," Gus sighed before she launched into a set of instructions for taking care of concussions that Nicole soon lost track of.

 

 

***

Waverly thought it was a bit strange that Nicole insisted they go to her crummy motel rather than the homestead, but there was such a drunken fervor in her slurred speech that Waverly relented. The door of Nicole's room was faded and peeling, paint flakes coating the carpeted floor outside the door like snow. The inside was messy, lived in, and Waverly couldn’t help but smile at the embarrassed blush that crept up Nicole's cheeks at the sight of it. The bedsheets were strewn about the bed, forming crevices and valleys, and a suitcase lay open on the windowsill, spilling clothes onto the floor. On the desk lay a notebook, bound tight, and a collection of Heftig's works on urban legends, the same editions that Waverly had on her desk at home.

 

The smell though. It was the same concoction of perfumes and colognes that Nicole always smelt of, but that underlying musk was stronger than ever, thick and woody and vaguely familiar in a way that Waverly couldn’t identify.

 

"I'm gonna stay with you, ok? Gus says I can't let you sleep." She says to Nicole, who leans heavily on her shoulder, burning hotter than ever.  "Though," she adds, "I'm surprised she let you out of the hospital at all, in the state you're in."

 

Nicole flushed again at that, attempting to straighten up and wincing as she did.

 

"M' stronger than I look." she mumbles, indignant.

 

"Funny that.  Because after feeling up your arm muscles when we kissed the other day, I thought you were very strong indeed."  
  
"Shut'p"

 

They move to the bed, Waverly struggling with the duvet to clear a space for the two of them, before she turns to Nicole, nervous. It could all end here, she thinks. And it should. She'd already got hurt because of the supernatural and telling her the truth could increase those chances. But she deserves to know. She deserves to understand the monster that attacked her. She may well reject Waverly and leave this town, but maybe that's for the best.

 

Waverly tries not to hyperventilate.

 

"So. You remember me talking about werewolves hypothetically the other day, right?" she breathed.

 

Nicole straightens at that, concerned.

 

"Yeah. I remember."

 

"Well. They exist."  
  
That gets her a look of confusion mixed with worry, and a pause before Nicole says lamely, "Oh. Wow."

 

Waverly just might explode. She just admitted the secret she'd kept for years, something she was sure to ruin any chances for a normal life she'd ever had, and all it got was an 'Oh wow?' Really?

 

"I tell you that werewolves exist and you say _that_?"

 

"Well uh. I was attacked by one. Also, I'd read um, reports. On Purgatory. And stuff. So." Nicole fumbled, wincing with every word that came out of her mouth.

 

Waverly took a very deep breath and groaned into her palms.

 

"If it makes you feel any better, the confirmation was nice?" Nicole said.

 

"Ok. Ok," Waverly breathed, "Now that that's over with, two things. One. Are you still comfortable? With us? I mean, I'm pretty involved in this supernatural stuff, and it's dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt."  
 

Her eyes brushed over the bandages around Nicole.

 

"Again. Hurt again."

 

Nicole's face went through a collection of emotions. First surprise, then anger, then sadness, all at once.

 

"Of course. Of course I'm comfortable with us. This is new. Well, I mean, it's new for me and, I really want to try with you Waves. Try for you. Werewolves or no."

 

Her big brown eyes held Waverly's own, the slur in her speech fading for a moment. She was being genuine. Honest. And Waverly wanted to cry.

 

"Fuck, Nicole. I want to try for you too. I don't think I've wanted anything so badly for a while."

 

There was silence for a moment as Nicole sunk into Waverly, head against her chest, listening softly to the beating of her heart.

 

"There was a second thing, right?"  
  
Waverly snapped back to attention.

 

"Right. I'm looking over your injuries. Take off your top."  
  
That got a snicker from Nicole, and Waverly blushed.

 

"You could have just asked, Waverly. No need for excuses here."  
  
"Shut up and let me see, asshole."

 

"You really know how to set the mood, babe."

 

Waverly huffed again, fighting a smile as Nicole struggled with her flannel shirt hopelessly for a while. Waverly sighed, and let her fingers work the buttons, one by one as Nicole slowly grew redder and redder. Every so often her finger would brush against unbandaged skin, and there would be an intake of breath, soft and quick.

 

The bandages wove around practically Nicole's whole torso, covering her so much she looked like a kid dressed as a Mummy on Halloween. There were cuts and scrapes too, running up and down the length of her arms, ones she'd sworn had looked bigger in the headlights of her car, but were now bloodless and pale. There were older ones too. Little white scars littered Nicole's body, with one especially large one bisecting the bicep on her left arm and another starting at her collarbone and climbing down, down, under the bandages, where more hid.

 

Suddenly, Waverly remembered that she'd only seen Nicole in long-sleeved tops.

 

"Babe."

 

Nicole looked down in surprise, seemingly noticing the scars for the first time, looking ashamed.

 

"Shit. Shit, Waverly, I'm sorry, I should've-" she said, voice high and panicked, trying to cover herself with the blanket.

 

"Jesus, Nicole, who did this to you?" she said, voice rising in anger and fear and _disbelief_ because Nicole had been hurt before, Nicole had been hurt too many times to count and she was _ashamed_ of all things.

 

"I- Shit, Waverly. I can't. "

 

"Hey. Nicole, please, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to I'm just- You don't deserve this. You don't deserve whatever happened. Please, baby, come here."

 

There was a pause, Nicole leaning away from her, still breathing hard and fast and staring at the floor. Slowly, softly, she leaned back and into Waverly, and let Waverly's arms wrap around her softly, not tensing at the contact.

 

Waverly let her hand run through Nicole's hair, which was soft and smooth, roots looking red in the warm hotel light. Nicole would look good with red hair, she thought distantly, tracing a pattern on Nicole's shoulder. Really good.

 

Softly, slowly, Waverly told Nicole a story about Wynonna sneaking out at night when they were kids.

 

She laughed in all the right places.

 

***

 

"You have a _horse_?"

 

This was said by Nicole at breakfast, incredulous and trying to stuff an unethical amount of pancake into her mouth. She'd been better all morning, looking vastly improved to her pale and shivering form last night, especially after they'd made out for a while after they woke up. Together. In bed.

 

Waverly hated and loved how fast this was moving at the same time.

 

She'd agreed to take Nicole to the local diner after she'd spent all morning moping about the loss of her hat, which had been lost when the werewolf attacked. Waverly was sorely tempted to question wearing a hat at night, but had decided that it wasn’t worth the probable puppy-dog eyes that Nicole would flash her way, hurt at such a ridiculous question.

 

"Yeah. It's an old family horse. Passed down a bunch I think."  
  
There was a pause as Nicole attempted to swallow the mouthful she had managed.

 

"Passed down a bunch? Aren't horses supposed to live for only, like, thirty years?"

 

"Good point. Maybe I'm thinking about another horse. But yeah, he's an old one, we keep him just outside the boundary of the Homestead. Dunno why, but none of the werewolves will go near him. It's not like he does anything but eat grass and look pissed off."

 

"You've found another weakness. The dreaded glare. May all werewolves tremble before thee, or whatever."  
  
Waverly snorted. "If that were the case, Wynonna would have ended the curse by now. She's got enough glares for an entire season of the real housewives."

 

Nicole nodded vigorously at that, wincing as she moved her back. "She's terrifying. She confronted me in Shorty's the other day. Scarier than a werewolf any time, I swear."

 

"She's lovely when you get to know her, I promise," Waverly said, grinning.

 

Nicole made a face. "Lovely?"

 

"Delightful."  
  
"Sure."

 

"So. Do you wanna meet him?"

 

***

 

The horse in question was located just outside the ring of silver that Nicole could not pass. It was brown and white, long mane flickering softly in the breeze, majestic and awe-inspiring and all the other things people said about horses all the time.

 

More importantly, however, was the fact that it was currently glaring at Nicole like she was personally responsible for its entrapment within the paddock. Weakness to glares indeed.

 

"Does it do this to everyone?" she whispered to Waverly, struggling to break eye contact with the beast, which had such a haughty glare going on that it seemed to be attempting to outdo her at her own last name.

 

"No. No, it does not." Waverly replied.

 

She looked mildly concerned.

 

"Hey! Hey Doc, good horse! " Waverly said, trying to gain its attention by waving about a carrot bought from the local corner store.

 

(They had made out in one of the aisles for old time's sake, until they had been caught by a less than impressed store owner, and forced back out onto the street.)  
 

Nicole made a dreadful choking sound and tried to pass it off as something other than a reaction to the name she'd just heard.

 

 

Doc, the horse, _glared_.

 

What if-

 

No. There was no way. There was no way that that horse was who she thought it might be. It was a Horse, for god's sake.

 

"Passed down through your family, you said?"

 

"Yeah. Or the name was, at least. Named after Doc Holliday, you know?"

 

"Yeah, I thought so." She said, paying the beast a weary glance.

 

***

 

Nicole had left with a kiss that had not lasted long enough, and a promise to see each other the next day. Waverly had made her swear to text her hourly, just in case, and Nicole had thrown her head back to laugh, before agreeing softly.

 

Now Waverly was seated inside, flipping through musty books searching for anything about the beast. Wynonna wasn’t home, probably out working with dolls or terrorizing Shorty's,  and the homestead was empty. Waverly had to admit it was still somewhat unnerving that way. The Wind whistled through loosened boards, the house shifting and creaking like an aged man at rest, complaining into the night. Bugs crept through cupboards, and Waverly had once encountered a brown recluse making its home within the guest bathroom, furry legs peddling against the smooth bathtub to no effect.

 

But now, the howling of the wind was accompanied by the howling of an animal, mournful and lilting, rising and falling through the darkening sky with the practice of a singer, a song touched with misery and loneliness. Waverly watched as the hairs on her arm stiffened, one by one, traveling up her arm. Standing, placing her book gently on the table, she walked to the window and looked outside.

 

Just outside the boundary, fur shining copper in the fading dusk light, was the red wolf. Its head was turned to the sky, mouth agape as its voice rose and fell, weaving itself into the wind with delicacy. Just for a second, it paused. A wide eye that seemed to flicker between brown and yellow took her in, from almost too far away to be sure of its color. It started up again.

 

Waverly rooted through the kitchen, grasping her shotgun with trembling hands. The cold metal stung.

 

Stepping outside and into the wind, she stalked towards the beast, Shotgun pointed directly at its chest. It wouldn’t kill it, but it would hurt. Its fur was parted by deep gashes, some clots being ripped out completely. The rest of it was messy and matted, still damaged from the tussle with the white beast, and Waverly felt a tinge of guilt as her eyes scanned the wounds.

 

"I already let you go once!" she yelled into the wind, watching as the wolf's ear twitched in response, slitted eyes scanning her softly.

 

"I can't let you go again," she said. She didn’t pull the trigger. The wolf watched.

 

After a minute of silence. The wolf's dark nose twitched softly, before it bounded off towards the woods. Waverly thought it might be gone for good, back into the night, but as quickly as it had left it returned, Nicole's signature Stetson clutched gently between its teeth.

 

Carefully, ignoring Waverly's startled noises and waving of the gun, it dropped the hat just outside the boundary before nudging it gently inside, yelping slightly as it's nose passed the line of silver that ran through the bedrock.

 

Waverly had very little experience with werewolves that were not trying to chew her extremities off and wasn’t sure if they all acted like large excitable dogs.  This massive carnivore that could probably snap her arm in half with one bite was currently whining at her, gesturing towards the hat.

 

Sighing, she picked it up, and at a loss of what to do, put it on. The very dangerous enemy of her family yipped excitedly and ran around in a circle, tail moving like a helicopter rotor.

 

Who was she kidding? This wolf had saved her life, was currently unable to pass through the boundary to get to her, and was currently acting like a puppy. 

 

Waverly sighed, and lowered the gun.

 

"You do know you're pushing your luck, asshole."  
  
The wolf barked in response.

 

Waverly returned inside, gently placing the shotgun back into its designated spot, and attempted to continue on with her research.

 

The howling of the wolf sounded joyful now, and the hat stayed firmly on her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A03 fucking hates me and wont let me remove the first chapter note that is on EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER AFTERWARDS. im so sorry. i have tried. i might repeat some stuff? anyway!
> 
> the response to this has been Encouraging As Fuck and every single comment and kudos fills my heart with IMMESURABLE JOY. picture that one vine of that dog dancing to africa by toto and you'll know. this is the first time ive written a fic, and the first time i've written something this long, and im Doing My Best to make it as good as possible for all of y'all out there reading!! next up: another date, a silver bullet, some sickass book discussion, and Waverly bonding with the red wolf. 
> 
> chap title from moonshine freeze by this is the kit! find me on tumblr at lesbianesques.tumblr.com


	6. as we tripped into impressionism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole in a suit. silver bullet comes next time, sorry!

Waverly and nicole go on a SICK DATE. Nicole and wynonna interaction. Dolls warns wavelry about nicole, waverly doesn’t want to hear it. Nicole visits a grave. Nicole tells waverly a story about a hunter god that lives in the woods.

 

 

Nicole was on the hunt. Following the scent of fur and cat, she stalked the streets of purgatory, small bowl filled with cat food in hand. She'd seen the poor thing lurking around a lot lately, ginger fur matted and tangled, so thin that it's ribs were clearly visible. It was starving. The scent of humans lingered upon it. She thought it must be a housecat that'd gotten loose, lost and hungry because it didn’t know how to hunt.

 

So Nicole went after it. She'd always had a soft spot for cats,  and she was probably going to be lurking around purgatory long enough to find it a good home.

 

The scent led to an alleyway near where the white wolf had attacked Waverly, it's stench nearly masking that of the stray. Sensing eyes watching her from a roof, carefully she placed down the bowl and moved to stand away. The cat slunk out of the shadows, pausing to shoot her a curious glance, before chowing down on the food with vigour.

 

Suffice to say she was somewhat surprised when someone called her name. Even the cat jumped slightly before continuing to attack the food.

 

She turned to face the mouth of the alley, recognizing the shape of the figure in it with a burst of excitement. Waverly.

 

Nicole lit up like a proverbial Christmas tree, every fibre in her body burning with affection.

 

"Waverly! Didn’t know you were a fan of  hanging out in dingy alleyways."

 

Waverly grinned, cheeks reddening as her hands squirmed in her pockets. Cute.

 

"Well, I could say the same to you. Was surprised to see you until I saw that cat. Always knew you'd be the type to help strays."  
  
Nicole grinned.  Wandering over to stand next to her possible paramour, she turned so she could still see the cat out of the corner of her eye. Had to make sure that poor thing ate.

 

"Well," she said, a smile escaping her, "I am a bit of a stray myself."

 

That resulted in a snicker and a soft punch to her shoulder, before Waverly leaned against it, letting Nicole's warmth leech through their clothing and into her skin.

 

"Speaking of feeding strays, I was wondering…" 

 

There was a second of silence as Waverly bit her lip, brow furrowing in what Nicole thought must be a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

 

"Go on?"

 

"A date? I mean, the two of us. Going on a date. I know we already went on one, and that was great! But I was thinking a fancy restaurant,  candles, all that sort of thing. You know? I just, uh, thought that maybe it would be nice with everything happening right now. You know? Maybe-"  
 

God, she was so cute when she rambled. Her pulse, however, sounded like the beat of a nightcore remix, so it would probably be a good idea to let her know that it was a great idea before she keeled over.

 

"That sounds lovely."

 

"Oh, thank god. I'd already booked the restaurant but I didn’t want to presume."

 

Nicole snickered. God, she was so cute. And so _organized_.

 

"I'm sure I'll be able to rustle up a fancy outfit somewhere."

 

***

 

Waverly was absolutely going to die. This was a terrible idea. She was going to keel over and die in a fancy restaurant and Wynonna was going to weep over her corpse.

 

Nicole, the demon in human form, was wearing a _suit_.

 

Her shoulders alone were enough to personally nail Waverly's coffin shut. The suit was so perfectly cut. Even that could not compare to when she leaned forward and the fabric strained against her biceps.

 

Said demon was now looking at Waverly with a face full of worry because she hadn't spoken in ten minutes. Waverly, with some difficulty, shut her mouth.

 

"Waverly? You okay?"

 

Sure. If okay meant somewhere between life and death.

 

"Is the suit too much?"

 

"No! not at all. Its… certainly something."

 

Nicole frowned. Like a hurt puppy.

 

"I meant that in a complementary way."  
 

"Oh. Thanks?"

 

After that slight hiccup, the night went wonderfully, with Nicole being as infuriatingly smooth as she normally was (apart from when Waverly overheard her giving herself a pep talk as she returned from the bathroom)

 

Waverly ordered herself some risotto while Nicole attempted to devour what looked like half an entire cow, eating the meat so rare that Waverly was sure it must be a mistake on the chef's part.  They talked, with Nicole being as vague about her background as she ever was, and with Waverly mostly capitalizing on Wynonna's wild youth for a collection of stories that ranged from funny to excessively worrying.

 

The issue was that the fondness Waverly felt for the other woman was about to consume her whole. She felt herself loving every aspect of the other woman, from the way she half smiled while talking, dimples appearing in her cheeks, to her warm brown eyes that sparkled in the candlelight. God, her smile was so comforting. It was like Nicole was the personification of cosy cabin hidden away in the woods somewhere, someplace private and homey and probably containing a cat.

 

The logical part of Waverly didn’t know what to do with itself. It had been such a short amount of time, and really, she still didn’t know much about Nicole, but she found herself more and more willing to be there for her anyway.

 

She may have been having a small crisis.

 

Even so, she managed to pay Nicole back for their date in the bar, and they walked arm in arm to Waverly's range rover, before Nicole gently asked permission to kiss her.

 

She agreed.

 

Nicole's warm and weathered hand cupped her cheek, and tilted her face up slightly. Hot lips touched hers, her hand crept around the back of Nicole's neck. Her mouth tasted of the woods. Waverly was fairly certain her own mouth just tasted of mouth, and distantly wondered how any mouth could taste not-mouthy.

 

Her brain was turning to mush.

 

Nicole was gentle and calm, steady and slow, and Waverly let Nicole's arms wrap around her midsection, lifting her.

 

God, Waverly could stay like this forever.

 

***

 

The café was crowded by purgatory standards, which meant that there was an old couple who looked like they'd been recently excavated propped up in a booth, and one young teen who looked like they hadn't slept in a year. Nicole was at the counter, trying to order something that vaguely resembled a mocha, when someone cleared their throat behind her.  Oh. Wynonna stood behind her like a scarecrow with an affinity for leather, buffeted by invisible winds.

 

"Hey?" Nicole said.

 

"Hey." Wynonna said back. She was chewing gum.

 

There was awkward silence for probably too long as the despairing coffee worker attempted to construct a beverage against the will of the Metal God that took the place of a regular coffee machine. It made a sound like a choking dog, and spat a suspicious liquid out.

 

"So. You and Waverly had a pretty good time last night. She came home and talked about you for over an hour."  
 

Nicole blushed. Of course Waverly had.

 

"Yeah, I uh, really like her."

 

There was a second where Wynonna narrowed her eyes and Nicole prayed to any respective god that would listen.

 

"Sit with me, Haught."

 

She grabbed Nicole's shoulder and lead her to one of the booths before making a sitting motion and heading off to grab Nicole's coffee and what looked to be an iced tea of some sort.

 

She then sat herself down, sniffed at Nicole's heavily milked-and-sugared  mocha, and grimaced. Then she offered Nicole a sip of her own beverage, which was a brown colored liquid with enough ice to stop global warming.

 

Nicole's various senses told her this was a terrible idea.

 

She took the sip.

 

It was the perfect concoction of bitter and sour to make Nicole's face screw up, and she had to force herself to swallow. Her extra-sensitive sinuses metaphorically had an emotional breakdown, and she practically threw the drink back at Wynonna, who laughed somewhat manically.

 

"What the fuck is that? Nine espresso shots poured over ice?"  
  
"Something like that," she said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

 

"Holy shit. If you wanted me to fear you, you have the right way of going about it."

 

She snorted at that, and took another sip.

 

"I don’t want you to be scared of me. This isn't a shovel talk or anything. Though I WILL make sure you're body is never found if you hurt her."  
  
"Naturally."  
 

"I just wanna say I haven't seen her this happy in a long time. Good job, Haughtstuff. You seem cool."

 

"Thanks?"  
  
"Just saying, feel free to help us out at the black badge. You have cop experience, and werewolf experience, and Dolls is currently working his ass off. Could always use some more muscle."  
  
"Waverly isn't enough muscle?" Nicole said, half distracted by the use of the words 'werewolf experience'.

 

Wynonna screwed up her face  and Nicole regretted everything she'd ever said.

 

"Don't be gross or you're uninvited. "

 

"Sorry."

 

Waverly did have great muscles, though.

 

***

 

 

Waverly had been called in to the station to help with the historical aspect of something, which left her sorting through piles of Heftig's works and various miscellaneous papers that were paper clipped together like a tardy teen's book report. Dolls was there, alternating between sifting through reports and giving her concerned glances. After about an hour, Waverly slammed her current volume onto the table as gently as she could while making a statement, and stomped over to his side.

 

With a certain calmness to his actions, he placed his pen directly parallel to the report, and spun in his chair to face her, fingers steepled.

 

"Yes, Earp?"

 

Waverly sighed.

 

"You've been giving me looks the whole time I've been working, Dolls. Spill the beans."

 

An eyebrow rose. It was like witnessing one of the faces on Rushmore come slightly to life.

 

"Haught. You trust her?"

 

What the fuck. Of course Waverly trusted her.

 

"Are you trying to imply I shouldn’t?"  
  
he waits a second to reply.

 

"There's something off about her. I'd watch out if I were you, Earp."

 

***

 

Seated by a campfire somewhere near the Earp homestead (But not on the land), Nicole and Waverly  watched the sun set. It descended the sky like a meandering firefly, letting the moon creep up in it's absence.

  
"So," Waverly starts, eyes still trailing the sun, "any ghost stories you'd like to share? Folk tales?"  
  
"Before the sun fully sets? Isn't that against the spirit of things? Also, aren't you supposed to be the expert in this particular field?"

 

"Well, yeah. I wanna know if you know any different ones."   
  
Nicole prodded the fire with her stick.

 

"Hmm. Ok, let's see if you know this one."

 

Nicole knows the tale off by heart. So she speaks it from the heart, not pausing to think about the words that grew beneath her tongue, letting them slide into the air like leaves in autumn.

 

"Long ago, in a time so separate from ours it may well have been a parallel dimension, there was a man. Like most tales, I know. There's always a man. But this man, well, he grew so bitter and hateful for the rest of his kind that he decided there was no way they could continue to corrupt the world in which they lived. So, like most reasonable and well-adjusted people, he went out into the woods and lived there. For years. He lived amongst the animals, as an animal, being nothing but kind to the other creatures he came across. One day, a being, calling itself the spirit of the woods, came to meet him, impressed by his love for all living things, not knowing it's performative nature. This spirit gifted him with great power akin to many of the beasts he ran alongside, believing he would use it to aid others. Instead, the man returned to his village and slaughtered each and every occupant."  
  
"The spirit was horrified. It loved humankind, as another of it's children, and immediately cursed the man to madness, forcing him to think of nothing but murder and bloodshed. This… hunter god, well, he haunted the forests for eons, driving dwellers to madness, convincing them to give up the human parts of themselves and instead embrace what he called the purest part of nature: Death."

 

"Jesus" Waverly whispered. Her eyes glowed in the light of the fire, shining into Nicole's. the flames flickered in her irises. Hazel tones shifted like a kaleidoscope.

 

"Yeah. I mean, it's not true. Just an old tale I pieced together over a while."

 

"Imagine being driven insane like that. Forced to kill." Nicole shivered. Her grip tightened around the pointy stick that currently impaled a marshmallow.

 

"well," Waverly drawled, popping a nicely browned mallow into her mouth and speaking around it "it sounds like he was pretty skeevy already."

 

"Fair."

 

Nicole's marshmallow caught fire in a tiny puff of flames. Waverly watched in horror as Nicole calmly waited a second, blew out the fire, and ate the blackened treat whole.

 

"Hey babe?"

 

"Myeh?" Nicole replied around enough molten sugar to gum up a series of industrial zones.

 

"What the fuck."

 

Nicole frowned and swallowed, with only moderate difficulty.

 

"Its meltier this way."  
 

"You continue to disgust and intrigue me in equal measure,"

 

A soft whine escaped Nicole's mouth, and Waverly leans in, resting a head on her shoulder, snickering quietly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly all the kudos and comments fill my heat with joy and pull me closer to my unknowable form. thanks so much!
> 
> really shocked by the response to this!
> 
> tumblr is lesbianesques


End file.
